Fire Festival
- At February 13, 2020
- By admin
- In Annes Letters
0
Dear Family and Friends,
After my most recent letter that mentioned a fire festival, several people have written asking for more information about it. That is why this message is coming so close on the heels of the last one.
For Japan, the temple complex Yakushido is not particularly old, at about 400 years. But for Sendai it is very important. That is because its history is closely connected to her founder, Masamune Date. Although most of the original edifices no longer stand, the temple is still active. And every year on Founding of the Nation Day, February 11, a highly significant festival is held.
For this event Yamabushi, or mountain ascetic hermits, congregate in order to perform a very powerful ritual.
After my most recent letter that mentioned a fire festival, several people have written asking for more information about it. That is why this message is coming so close on the heels of the last one.
For Japan, the temple complex Yakushido is not particularly old, at about 400 years. But for Sendai it is very important. That is because its history is closely connected to her founder, Masamune Date. Although most of the original edifices no longer stand, the temple is still active. And every year on Founding of the Nation Day, February 11, a highly significant festival is held.
For this event Yamabushi, or mountain ascetic hermits, congregate in order to perform a very powerful ritual.
The afternoon is filled with the element of fire, demanding purification and strength of will. This raging intensity is complemented by water, creating a smoke-filled atmosphere that is rhythmically soothed by the ceaseless droning chants of the Yamabushi.
The Yamabushi form a circle around a large pile of green pine branches. They chant and blow conch shell horns that moan across the ritual field.
Before long the fire becomes a raging blaze of madness, shooting flames to the farthest edges of the ritualistic circle. At that point, two Yamabushi grab buckets of water and hurl it at the blaze, frantically repeating the process again and again. Smoke billows everywhere, as onlookers hold their hands in prayer, receiving the sacred energy of the barely controlled flames.
From there, the Yamabushi take wooden sticks with visitors’ prayers and throw them into the fire. As they burn, the hopes and wishes of the devotees ascend upward, where they, hopefully, will be heard and answered.
The fire is raked, salt is thrown into it, and gradually a taming emerges.
The Yamabushi begin the spiritual challenge, followed by visitors who wish to participate. People come locally and from neighboring prefectures. Everyone fully trusts the process.
Just then, my foot hit one lone piece of coal that was still brightly burning. The pain shot through me, but I dared not stop. I kept up my even pace, got to the end, walked through several trays of water, over salt and pine branches, finally to a shelter to dry my feet and put on my shoes. I never gave any indication of my burn. It was mine alone. Happily, no one else seemed to have had that sort of mishap. Later at home, I put ice on it and the next day it was fine.
Even now, several days after that experience, I can feel the profound effect it has had, and is still having on me. It is hard to verbalize, but deep within I know there is a change. And for that I am grateful.
Love,
Anne
The Yamabushi form a circle around a large pile of green pine branches. They chant and blow conch shell horns that moan across the ritual field.
They make highly stylized devotional gestures until finally two of them move toward the altar in order to light huge torches with which to ignite the central pyre.
Before long the fire becomes a raging blaze of madness, shooting flames to the farthest edges of the ritualistic circle. At that point, two Yamabushi grab buckets of water and hurl it at the blaze, frantically repeating the process again and again. Smoke billows everywhere, as onlookers hold their hands in prayer, receiving the sacred energy of the barely controlled flames.
From there, the Yamabushi take wooden sticks with visitors’ prayers and throw them into the fire. As they burn, the hopes and wishes of the devotees ascend upward, where they, hopefully, will be heard and answered.
The fire is raked, salt is thrown into it, and gradually a taming emerges.
At that point, one Yamabushi goes to a large fire-filled metal bucket emitting a wall of smoke that seems to consume him. He takes a pine branch and thrusts it into water, which he flings around him. All the while, the chanting continues, maintaining a rhythm that is goes to the very core of life itself.
Finally, the ashes and cinders, still very hot, are subdued enough for the most poignant part of the ritual: fire walking. In a very Japanese way, this extreme is balanced with protective elements. Pine branches form a pathway and a mound of salt is the doorway to step on before entering the arena of fire.
The Yamabushi begin the spiritual challenge, followed by visitors who wish to participate. People come locally and from neighboring prefectures. Everyone fully trusts the process.
We each brought our own mental, emotional and spiritual attitude. So, naturally, the experience differed for each person. For me, a deep silence and calmness seemed to rise up from the very center of my being. Yet, as I moved over the burning embers, I felt a profound sense of aloneness, as if everything nonessential was being stripped away. I wanted to cry, not from sadness, but from a deep surrender. I knew that moment was a culmination of my entire life.
Just then, my foot hit one lone piece of coal that was still brightly burning. The pain shot through me, but I dared not stop. I kept up my even pace, got to the end, walked through several trays of water, over salt and pine branches, finally to a shelter to dry my feet and put on my shoes. I never gave any indication of my burn. It was mine alone. Happily, no one else seemed to have had that sort of mishap. Later at home, I put ice on it and the next day it was fine.
Even now, several days after that experience, I can feel the profound effect it has had, and is still having on me. It is hard to verbalize, but deep within I know there is a change. And for that I am grateful.
Love,
Anne
